


trust falls

by AceMoppet



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Communication is my actual reason for existing, Fluff and Angst, In which we trust our significant others and not the tabloids, M/M, YOI Secret Santa 2018, merry chrysler, no actual infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 20:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceMoppet/pseuds/AceMoppet
Summary: It’s a relatively normal day when the article comes out.TROUBLE IN PARADISE??? the article blares. RUSSIAN SKATING LEGEND CAUGHT CHEATING ON HIS SWEETHEART!!! (Click to read more)Oh, Yuuri thinks, sitting down so hard the chair beneath him creaks, oh God.





	trust falls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starsorts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsorts/gifts).



> Hey there Claire! So uh,,, heard you liked Victuuri,,, and angst with happy endings,,,
> 
> Anyways, Merry Christmas and I hope you like this! I was really excited to write for you, and I hope you enjoy it!

It’s a relatively normal day when the article comes out.

 

Yuuri’s in the kitchen making tea, waiting for Victor and Makkachin to come back from their walk. He’s just turned off the stove when he hears a  _ ping! _ from his phone.

 

He rushes over, thinking it might be a message from Phichit, only to see a notification from @vkn-updates. 

 

_ Huh,  _ he thinks, unlocking his phone,  _ wonder what that’s about. _

 

He taps on the notification, reads the title of the article, immediately grows cold.

 

**TROUBLE IN PARADISE???** the article blares. **RUSSIAN SKATING LEGEND CAUGHT CHEATING ON HIS SWEETHEART!!! (Click to read more)**

 

_ Oh,  _ Yuuri thinks, sitting down so hard the chair beneath him creaks,  _ oh God. _

 

A cold, clammy feeling washes over him, leaving him shivering. His heart pounds so,  _ so _ loud in his ears, and he feels the acid in his stomach start to carve out a bottomless black pit.

 

_ Victor would never do this,  _ he thinks logically.  _ He’d never do something like this. _

 

And that surety calms him down even as a rogue part of his brain whispers  _ what if? _ . Still, his fingers tremble as he taps the link to read more.

 

And then he promptly bursts into laughter.

 

_ Oh god,  _ he wheezes, one hand against the table to steady himself,  _ it’s not even him! _

 

And it isn’t. Yuuri doesn’t know who the man was (and he’s sorry he got caught up in it), but it definitely isn’t Victor. For one thing, he’s wearing orange and green together, a combination Victor had sworn off altogether when Chris had told him he looked like a carrot. 

 

(“A sexy carrot,  _ mon ami!” _

 

“I don't  _ want _ to look like a carrot Chris! Yuuri, pass me the blue jeans please.”)

 

And for another, it clearly isn’t Victor! Victor's ears are  _ not _ that pointy; he should know, seeing as he kisses them every night before they go to bed. And in the mornings when they wake up. And in the shower. And in the locker rooms and rink before, during, and after practice. (Stop judging him, Victor has cute ears, okay??? It's a crime to not kiss them; Yuuri's just doing his civic duty.)

 

With one last chuckle, he puts his phone down and goes to pour the tea.

 

And that’s when the door opens.

 

Makkachin bounds in and jumps around Yuuri’s feet. 

 

“Hey girl!” Yuuri starts to laugh but stops at Makka’s distressed whines. “Whoa there, what’s wron-”

 

“Yuuri!” Victor barges in, eyes wild and hair a mess. “Please don’t tell me you read it!”

 

“Vitya wha-”

 

“Ugh what am I saying,” Victor mutters, fingers tugging at his bangs furiously, “Of course you’ve read it.”

 

“Vitya, hey,” Yuuri walks forward slowly and rubs Victor’s arms. He bites his lip but tries not to let his worry show as he comforts Victor. “Let’s just sit down over here-”

 

Victor’s hands suddenly shoot out to grasp his elbows. Still wild-eyed, he says, “It’s not me Yuuri, it’s not- it’s not-”

 

And suddenly the light bulb clicks on.

 

“Are you talking about the article?” Yuuri asks, fighting back incredulous laughter as Victor nods frantically. “Vitya, I know it’s not you. You’d never do that!”

 

Suddenly all the tension goes out of Victor’s body, leaving him swaying into Yuuri’s arms. “Thank God,” he whispers, “thank God-”

 

“Shhh,” Yuuri hushes, gently putting an arm around his shoulder. “Come on love, I’m taking you to the couch.”

 

Victor hums noncommittally, seemingly chill with Yuuri’s decision. They move to the couch, Makkachin nipping at their heels anxiously. Somehow, Yuuri manages to maneuver them both onto the couch without tripping over their dog and breaking both their heads. It’s a miracle, but he has no time to be triumphant over the stunt he just pulled because Victor’s started crying.

 

Now, Yuuri likes to think that after two years of engagement and one year of marriage, he’s got a handle on what to do when Victor cries. Truth is, Victor’s not a crier; he only cries when he’s pushed to the brink, whether that’s emotionally, mentally, or physically. Yuuri cries? Eh, it’s a regular Tuesday; just give him some water and he’ll be fine. Victor cries? Prepare for doomsday and say your goodbyes.

 

So no, Yuuri doesn’t know exactly what he should do, but he does know enough that Victor just wants to be held. He pulls Victor into his lap and pats the place next to him so that Makka knows to jump up, which she does, like a good doggo. He brings a hand up to scratch gently at the base of Victor’s neck, just a little sensation to rouse Victor from his numbness.

 

“Vicchan,” Yuuri whispers, mouth automatically shaping the most precious name for Victor he knows. Vicchan, of Hasetsu days and St. Petersburg nights. His Vicchan, his home and his heart. “It’s ok Vicchan.”

 

Victor sniffles and tightens his arms around Yuuri. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “I-I know there’s no reason to cry but-“

 

“Hey,” Yuuri says, pressing his lips to Victor’s forehead, “it’s ok. You’re hurt, so you’re crying. That’s ok Vicchan.”

 

Victor just sighs. “Thank you,” he mumbles, lips smushed against Yuuri’s neck, “I should- I should let you know why though…”

 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Yuuri says firmly, “I’m perfectly fine just holding you. I don’t need to know if it hurts you even more to talk about it.”

 

Victor huffs, amused. “Always so kind, Yuuri.” Then he sighs again and says, “No, I want you to know. I  _ need _ you to know.”

 

The sheer intensity in Victor’s voice is scary. Yuuri’s so,  _ so  _ worried for his husband, but if what he wants is for Yuuri to listen to him then…

 

“I’m all ears Vicchan.” Yuuri kisses Victor’s ear and settles in. “Tell me.”

 

Silence, except for Makka panting next to them. And then…

 

“You know I’ve been in relationships before, right?” 

 

Yuuri nods, remembering Victor telling Yuuri one night in bed, hands stroking over Yuuri’s face as he told him about his few lovers in the past. Yuuri was glad to know they all ranged from neutral to mostly positive. But it seemed like there was more than what Victor had told him long ago,

 

“Well, I never told you why my last relationship ended. And before you interrupt,” Victor says just as Yuuri’s about to tell him he doesn’t need to, “I’m telling you this because I want to. Though I thank you for your kindness love.”

 

“You deserve all the kindness,” Yuuri says stubbornly, placing a fierce kiss on Victor’s forehead.

 

Victor smiles, soft and flushed. The sight of the smile lifts Yuuri’s spirits, and he feels better even as Victor goes serious again, knowing Victor will be ok. “Andrei was a good man, if a bit, ah what’s the word? Clingy? No no…”

 

“Possessive?” Yuuri offers.

 

“Yes, possessive. Which I suppose I was ok with? He didn’t really understand why the ice was so important to me. I remember our fights used to mostly be about me taking up so much time for skating. Still, for the most part, we were good together. Until…”

 

Victor goes quiet. Yuuri looks up from where he’d been slowly drawing circles into Victor’s back to see Victor’s eyes glazing over with memories. “Vicchan?” he prompts. 

 

“Ah,” Victor says, startled, “yes, sorry.”

 

“Don’t be,” Yuuri insists, kissing him on the nose just to see him wrinkle it cutely. God he loves this man.

 

“Ok,” Victor says, laughing. “Still, where was I?”

 

“You said you and Andrei were good until…”

 

“Right.” He takes a deep shuddering inhale before continuing in an almost clinical tone. “It was our first anniversary. We had plans to have a small dinner at home before going out together. I still had enough energy back then to want to go out after a full day of practice, can you imagine?”

 

Yuuri snorts. “With the way you fall asleep at ten every day? Just barely.”

 

“Aw, thanks love,” Victor kisses his cheek and continues, “so yes, I thought it was a fine idea. We were both pretty excited about it. And then…”

 

Victor licks his lips and closes his eyes. “I got home that day, looking forward to spend the rest of the day with Andrei. I opened the door and suddenly Andrei is screaming at me. I try to ask him to calm down, to not scare Makka, to just tell me what’s wrong, but he just keeps on screaming.”

 

Victor sighs. “Eventually, he just shoved his phone in my face. It was an article, like today’s article, that accused me of cheating on him. Obviously I told him I didn’t, but…”

 

“... he didn’t believe you,” Yuuri finishes, holding Victor tighter.

 

Victor laughs bitterly. “No,” he says, “no he did not.”

 

Silence falls over them as they just soak in the atmosphere, holding each other close and petting Makkachin together. After a short eternity, Victor speaks again, thin and reedy.

 

“Eventually, he stormed out, saying that he couldn’t be with someone he couldn’t trust.” And  _ oh _ how Yuuri’s heart aches at the small break in Victor’s voice at that last word. He’s about to just tell him to stop when Victor goes on. “I tried contacting him any way I could, but he ignored me. Finally, he texted me back, only to say he was mailing me back some of my stuff that I’d left over at his house and that I shouldn’t ever contact him again. And then he blocked me.”

 

By this point, Victor’s started crying again, tears welling up in his eyes and spilling over his cheeks silently. “Ack,” he says quietly, “sorry, I thought I was done crying-“

 

“Shh,” Yuuri hushes. “Let it all out love. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Victor stills, and then he flings himself into Yuuri’s arms, trembling with quiet sobs. “Please,” he begs desperately, fingers digging into Yuuri’s back, “please don’t leave me.”

 

Yuuri smiles sadly. “I won’t Vicchan. Don’t you know you’re the only one for me?”

 

Victor gasps and shudders in Yuuri’s arms, breaking even as Yuuri pulls him impossibly close, gently running his hands over his back, his neck, his hair to let him know he’s not alone. Victor’s falling apart after so long, and Yuuri’s not dumb enough to think that this is it, that Victor will somehow magically be okay again even after so many years. Andrei might have left Victor because he couldn’t trust Victor, but in doing so, he broke Victor’s trust in relationships to the point where it still haunts him deeply. It’ll take time, but Yuuri wants to be there to see that trust build back, to be part of its foundation and to see it all the way to the end. And that starts now.

 

“I love you,” he whispers, “And I trust you. You would  _ never  _ do something like that Vicchan.”

 

At this point, Victor’s beginning to quiet down, with only a sniffle or two to go before he’s all wiped out. When he finally quiets, he pulls back to look at Yuuri.

 

Victor is a pretty crier, that much Yuuri will admit. In the aftermath though, his face goes all puffy and red like a candied cherry, and objectively speaking, it’s not a pretty sight to see. Yuuri however, has long since lost all objectivity when it comes to Victor, and will fight you ferociously if you dare to call Victor ugly*.

 

“Ah,” Victor says, still dazed from his crying jag, “Sorry Yuuri, I think I’ve gotten snot on your shirt.”

 

“It’s fine,” Yuuri says, kissing Victor’s snotty nose. Honestly, Yuuri could give less of a shit about the wet spot on his shoulder right now; Victor’s more important than the involuntary bodily fluids he’s spewed. That, and Yuuri’s pretty sure he’d done worse to Victor in recent memory, and Victor’s never said a peep about the Russia-sized wet spot Yuuri had left on Victor’s Armani coat about a year ago.

 

Makkachin whuffs softly from the side, and they both turn to her with smiles. “Thank you Makka,” Victor coos as he pets her. “Such a good girl, yes you are.”

 

“The bestest girl,” Yuuri agrees as he scratches behind her ear. “We’re the luckiest dads.”

 

Victor chuckles. “Yes we are.”

 

Silence re-enters the room on soft-socked feet as they both take a step back to breathe and exist in each other’s company.

 

Eventually, Yuuri’s stomach will grumble loudly, spooking Makkachin to the point where she jumps off the couch and gives Yuuri wary looks for the rest of the evening. They’ll laugh and get up to make dinner, skating-worn bones creaking and cracking with every step they take towards the kitchen. They’ll eat side-by-side, cuddling with each other and kissing each other after every other bite of their dinner, dragging out the meal until the clock strikes ten, at which point Victor’s eyes will start to droop and Yuuri will carry him to bed. They’ll wake up tomorrow morning in each other’s arms, Victor basking in the way Yuuri kisses him and Yuuri already plotting his revenge-

 

But that’s another story.

 

For now, they sit on a soft couch, holding each other close and exchanging slow, sweet kisses to reconnect. They exist in the soft space where each breath is honey-tinged and each heart-beat is padded with cotton, where each blink is a touch against the other’s cheek and each kiss is utter, blissful peace.

 

 _This is mine,_ Yuuri thinks, overwhelmed with love, _This is mine, and_ _I’m never letting this go._

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> *Victor is, in fact, ugly in the aftermath of a long cry. I couldn't put this in the actual fic because I felt like Yuuri would throttle me if I did. Even now, I'm risking my entire life just putting that sentence out. The things I do for this fandom :P.


End file.
